Scream
by Elsewhere723
Summary: Lydia had a scream all her own. With all the deaths Derek is her only constant.


Lyida had a scream all her own. She could control it better than when she was a teenager, but it still had a way of sneaking up on her. After she screamed for Allison she learned to control the banshee even when forcing herself not to scream was painful.

The first time after Aliison's death that the scream clawed it's way out was when Malia turned 21. Stiles didn't have time to register as Malia put herself between him and the team of assassins storming Derek's loft. Lydia screamed as the knife slid through Malia's body almost as effortlessly as it had Allison.

Peter cradled her corpse for two hours then took off. Derek took the guilt full force and went his own personal bar after throwing everyone out. Lydia and Scott helped a catatonic Stiles as Kira drove him home. The funeral was two days later, when Lydia screamed for Peter who died on his quest for vengeance. In a way it was poetic justice that he took out Malia's killers with him.

The next 6 months proved to be somewhat peaceful, as peaceful as a town of supernatural creatures could ever get. Until the day Lydia would never forgive herself for. He wasn't even supposed to be there. If Lydia had gotten her car looked at then he wouldn't have been. The sheriff was off duty, but no one else was answering her calls.

Kira and Scott were on a date, Stiles didn't get out of bed, let alone answer her calls, and then there was Derek. Derek Hale, the brooding loner who would probably answer her call, but then what? She refused to be in the same car with Derek Hale, alone. He was connected to Scott and even Stiles more than her. So instead she called the Sheriff.

Three minutes and they would've been safe, but then there was a red light. Then there was a drunk driver. She wanted to scream, but for the first time in a long time she couldn't. The doctors said it was the shock. She felt the pressure of the scream building in her throat when she stared into the Sheriff's dead eyes before she finally succumbed to darkness.

Lydia spent three days in the hospital. During that time Scott, Stiles, and Kira had tried to see her, but there was only one person she let into the room, Derek Hale. Derek was just there, not saying or doing anything, just there. They both understood what it felt like to feel the guilt of a person's death and they both understood that there was no comfort that words could provide.

A week after the accident Lydia finally made her way to see Stiles after Scott convinced her that he didn't blame her. The door was cracked when she got there. She went in like she did a thousand times before. The house reeked of vomit and booze.

She tried calling out to Stiles, but he never answered her. Lydia took slow steps until she came outside his room. The doctors said his heart just stopped. With the alcohol and the stress his heart never had a chance. Lydia called Scott and Derek then 911. It felt like hours before the coroner and the police arrived.

Scott took one look at Lydia holding Stile's cold, dead hand, and he took off to parts of the unknown. Kira was a friend, but she was no Allison. Malia, Scott, Stiles, they were all gone and she could do nothing to prevent their deaths, but scream when it was too late. Because the banshee side of her was the part she tried so hard to bury. Lydia knew, maybe if she would have embraced that part of her then maybe she could have saved her friends instead of watching them die.

What it all came down to was Derek Hale and Lydia Martin. Scott was traveling the world, Kira was busy with college, Ethan never stayed in Beacon Hills more than just to pass though, Argent made a pit stop to check on the kids before heading back to wherever the Hell it was that he had been, Jackson went back to London after coming to Stile's funeral, and even Isaac fell in love and had a new life somewhere far away from Beacon Hills.

Lydia didn't blame any of them. The truth was they had to courage to do what she couldn't. Because in Beacon Hills she had learned to control the banshee. She wasn't ready to release that part of her anywhere else yet. So, it all came down to her and Derek. The last two members of their group to not leave Beacon Hills. They were a pathetic pair indeed.

Eventually, the pair found themselves in a pattern. Lydia would visit saying she wanted to check on him, or she couldn't sleep, but the truth was that she didn't want to be alone. She had a feeling he didn't either. So, Derek ordered pizza and put in the first movie he saw. It didn't matter what the movie was. Neither would watch it.

They thought that if they ate pizza, and watched a scary movie, and pretended to be friends then maybe reality wouldn't slap them so hard in the face. Lydia and Derek knew they were delusional, but they didn't care. All that mattered was to have some sense of normalcy that their life's had been lacking for quite a while.

Kira was 23 when she died. Lydia struggled to find an empty staircase to let out her scream. The cancer was fast and unexpected, and no one saw it coming. Scott retuned in time to say a goodbye he never had the chance to say to Alison. Scott stayed with her parents on the hospital, but left quickly after the funeral. It was just her and Derek, like it always had been.

After Kira the last time Lydia let herself scream was when Scott died. After a week of not hearing from him by voice or email, he showed up bleeding outside of Derek's loft. They stopped the bleeding and even called Deaton, who had long taken himself out of the supernatural happenings in Beacon Hills. Scott was attacked by a pack of rouge werewolves who wanted revenge on Derek. Scott made Lydia promise to tell his mom he died in an accident. Not some supernatural doing. Scott's last word were whispered in Derek's ears as he shut his eyes, with Derek and Lydia on each side of him.

Lydia dropped Scott's hand as she buried her face in Derek's chest. He held her as she screamed, like he did every time one of them died. Lydia didn't even notice as Deaton took care of the questions asked by the police and the body. No matter how many deaths she saw she would never get used to seeing a dead body. Derek held her that night as she cried, gathered herself, then cried again.

When Lydia woke up the next morning she asked Derek, "What did Scott tell you before he died?" Derek looked at her hesitantly and smiled a sad smile, "He told me to take care of each other, to take care of you. We don't let anyone else in, but we let each other in." Derek told the redhead. Lydia found herself smiling at how well Scott could read people, he always could. That's what made him an Alpha.

"So, what do you say?" Lydia challenged the werewolf and Derek found himself smiling down on her.

"I say, that there isn't anyone else I would rather live this life with. " Derek smiled and brushed his lips across hers.

She screamed for Jackson, Ethan, Danny, Cora, Argent, and Melissa before she was 30 years old. Some such as Argent, Ethan, and Cora were killed supernaturally. While people such as Melissa and Danny died in accidents, and even Jackson died because of some disease his werewolf abilities couldn't prevent.

On her 29th birthday she went to the graveyard in Beacon Hills, She went to Stiles', Kira's, Melissa's, Argent's, Danny's and the Sherriff's graves and each laid a flower. Across the cemetery Derek was doing the same thing on Cora's, Jackson's, Ethan's, and Aiden's. They all had died too young while somehow Lydia and Derek were the only ones left.

"Are you ready?" Lydia felt Derek's presence behind her and she nodded. She had been putting it off for weeks, but she knew this time she was ready. Lydia and Derek walked past all the other graves and they came to stop in front of two.

"Hey, Allison, Hey, Scott." Lydia laid the flowers on their graves. She took a breath and Derek grabbed her hand to calm her down. "I know it's been awhile, but Derek and I have some news." Lydia looked down to the wedding ring on her finger. Scott had been right. Derek and Lydia pushed each other's buttons, but in the end all they needed was each other. "I'm pregnant." Lydia laughed and felt the tears rising to the surface.

"I know who would have thought? The prom queen and the werewolf?" Lydia tried to laugh. "I miss you both every day. Alison, you were my best friend, and the most selfless person I knew. Scott, even when you weren't here you saw what Derek and I couldn't. We have a life together, a marriage and pretty soon a baby. Both of you showed me what's it's like to love someone so completely. I love you both." Lydia finished.

Lydia felt Derek squeeze her hand. She looked to him as he smiled back. Since Cora's death, she had controlled the banshee. She didn't know how, Deaton didn't even know, but she had not let out a scream since then. She still felt the walls closing in on her, that's when Derek was there. He was there to keep away the monsters and she loved him all the more for that. Never once did he complain or make her feel like a burden.

Derek and Lydia had their little piece of heaven in the loft. 7 months after her 29th birthday Lydia gave birth to Allison Malia Hale and 5 years after that she gave birth to Scott Christopher Hale. They were living happily in Beacon Hills. A lot had changed since Lydia was 17 and shallow. A lot had changed since Derek was 24 and preferred to be alone, But they wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
